Heather
by karmakaze
Summary: Why does everyone hate her so much? Warning: slash. It's an unusual pairing that I doubted could be done, so I decided to take the challenge.
1. Heather

They say that the deepest hate is concealed love. I'm not sure if that's true…but I've never hated any girl as much as I hated her.

I tried to understand how my hatred managed to consume me to the point that I could never even look at her without feeling a dissatisfied shiver up my spine. Sure, I had never been the nicest person, even to my closest friends, but I rarely hated someone out of my own blindness, and failure to see their good aspects.

In grade eight, I tried to dismiss my hatred as jealousy. Perhaps it angered me that Heather managed to be pretty in her own, awkward way, without trying as hard as I did. It drove me crazy that a girl who never wore makeup, and basically wore the first thing she saw when she woke up, could still be so beautiful. Of course, I realize now that she was never any real threat to me. Even if she was beautiful, she didn't have the self-important confidence that I did. She was beautiful, but not in the way I strived to be.

Somehow, even this didn't help me. By grade eight, hating her became something like a drug. I realized that the more horrible things I said about her, the more she would do to cover up whatever I insulted. I suppose that before she became the topic of gossip among my friends, she never really thought about what she wore, or how she fit in. But I remember that all I had to say was, "I can't believe what Heather Sinclair was wearing yesterday. It's like she never grew out of her brother's hand-me-downs."

Within a few days, her "brother's hand-me-downs," were replaced with brand new, expensive label clothing, and a new haircut. When she started looking too good, I, considering myself the "queen of fashion" at the time, decided that ear-length hair wasn't good. I supposed that, at fourteen, any girl denied membership in the "popular" clique would immediately change. But I later found out that I was far from right.

How could a mostly self-assured girl who lived on the fringes, but was cool in her own way, give in to peer pressure so easily? Regardless of her reasons, I never really cared. Anyone who knew me would know that I like to control people. In fact, I highly doubt that I would ever have been as "beautiful" as I was in my eighth grade year, if manipulation hadn't been my forte. When I liked Spinner, and Terri was in the way, all I had to do was appeal to her low self-esteem to turn her into a bigger klutz than she had ever perceived herself to be. And please don't think that I had no idea that Ashley would do E. Perhaps I didn't suspect that she'd break _that _night, at _that _party, but I had counted on ruining it for her, to lose her as competition.

Yes, I know. I was a coldhearted bitch. I could turn the nicest girls into what they weren't, simply through making them believe that I wanted them another way. When that didn't work for Ashley, I had to use Jimmy to prove it to her. How do you think the poor girl felt when first _he _was bored with her, and now her best friend was tired of her perfect demeanor?

But pretty soon, I was bored with _myself _too. No matter what I had, there always seemed to be something left that wasn't mine. That something, or someone, was all I could think about for a long time. Every time I saw the lonely brunette walk down the halls, I would have to verbalize any fault I could find in her. Not because I hated her, but because I was almost afraid that there _was _nothing wrong with Heather Sinclair. That she was everything I thought she was. The girl with the most flaws eventually became my only flaw, and the small part of me that loved her was her only redeeming quality.

As happy as I was on the surface, for the next few years, _I _was the one left miserable, while Heather started to recover from my torture. Heather started to make friends with Alex, Sean, Jay, and Ellie, while a single act of revenge had lost me my boyfriend.

I wasn't sure if the feeling I had for Heather was actually love, or if it was just some messed up side effect of everything that had happened to me. But even before Dean, when I had still been the flirtatious girly-girl I was now, I still felt that way about her. And I had no idea why.

Now, I was sitting a few feet away from her, outside for lunch. Her hair was no longer straight and silky the way it had been when she had tried to redeem herself. She wore it in a sloppy ponytail, and wasn't hesitant about wearing glasses instead of contacts. Even so, she still looked beautiful to me. She was like the girl from _Never Been Kissed_, who everyone picked on and resented, because she had never discovered that she was beautiful, and didn't need the hottest boyfriend to prove it.

If my eyes weren't failing me, she was approaching my table. "What's _she _doing here?" Hazel demanded.

"You know…there's more to life than picking on other people," Ashley reminded us. "Why can't you just leave that girl alone?"

"Paige," she said, her hazel eyes meeting mine.

"What do you want?" I asked her, using my typical defense mechanism.

"To talk to you," she said. "About why it is you hate me so much."

I rolled my eyes. "It's not that I hate you, hon, it's just that you're a loser and everyone knows it."

Was that the best I could do?

She, in turn, rolled her eyes back. "Did it ever occur to you that some of us aren't interested in your special little clique? You've all treated me, and my friends like shit since you got here, and I just want to know what the hell I did that was bad enough to make you spread lies about me around the school, and tell everyone what a freak I was."

My mouth went dry. I had no answer for her.


	2. Girl's Night, Part 1

**Chapter Two**

"I feel like shit," I announced to Ashley, in the locker room.

Ashley didn't understand. "Why do you say that?"

I pulled my gym t-shirt over my head. "Because I've been such a bitch to Heather over the years, and she really didn't deserve it."

Ashley smiled. "Wow, Paige is actually admitting that she did something wrong. Good job."

I rolled my eyes. "That's not helping. What I want to know is; what am I supposed to do about it?"

Ashley considered this as she sat down to tie her shoes. "Why don't you ask her to come to that sleepover you're having for all your friends?"

I didn't always pay attention in English, but this was definitely an example of dramatic irony. "Do you honestly think she'd come?" I asked. "And…do you think Hazel and everyone would leave her alone?"

Ashley sighed, and shut her locker. "Do you really think Heather's going to pass up an opportunity to be included in something?"  
Sighing, I promised to try. "Alright. I guess it wouldn't hurt to ask."

Ashley smiled. "Good."

I didn't see Heather again until eighth block, when I had American History. She was sitting near the back of the room, reading through her textbook, when I interrupted her train of thought, simply by standing too close to her.

Heather looked up. "May I help you?" she asked.

I shook my head. "No, no, you're fine. I just wanted to ask if you'd want to come to a sleepover me and Hazel were going to have this Friday."

Heather gasped. "_Me_? I mean…this is some kind of joke, right?"

I shook my head, and took the empty seat next to hers. Hazel shot a confused expression at me from the front of the room, but I didn't respond. "No," I insisted. "I want you to come. I feel really shitty about the way I've treated you for the past few years, and I think I should get to know people before I judge."

Heather took a deep breath. "It's about time."

I nodded. "Yeah, hon, it is. And I'm sorry."

"Don't use that word," Heather pleaded. "It may be your little thing, but it gets obnoxious after a while."

"Oh, sorry," I said. This was going to be harder than I thought.

"Well…thanks. And I'll think about it," Heather said.

But underneath her scrutinizing façade, I could tell that she was happy. Or, at least, I hoped she was.

-Friday-

"Everything's perfect, Paige," Hazel insisted. "Calm down!"

"Do you think we need another kind of chips?" I demanded, as I set down the last bowl, which contained carrots and celery.

"What I think we need is a hostess who's a little less stressed out. I mean…come on. Terri and Ashley aren't going to care what this place looks like. They knew you in second grade, and I'm sure you were all perfect back then," Hazel reasoned.

"Actually…there's something I forgot to tell you," I told her.

"What?" Hazel asked nervously.

Ever since Dean raped me, Hazel tensed every time I had something important to tell her. "It's not that big a deal. I just invited Heather, that's all."

Hazel was shocked. "What? Why?"

"I know," I sighed. "But…I feel bad about how I treat her, and Ash thought I should at least get to know her."

"It's your party," Hazel breathed. "I'm not going to say a word."

"Yeah, well don't freak out quite yet," I told her. "Because I'm not even sure if Heather's going to come."

"Actually, the reason I'm not freaking out is because you're doing enough of that for the both of us," Hazel explained. "Oh, doorbell!"

Ashley came in, and I decided to give her an update as I dragged her sleeping bag into the living room. "I invited her, but I'm not sure if she's coming or not."

"It doesn't matter if she comes," Ashley told me. "The point is that you asked."

Terri arrived within a few minutes, and we were all thrilled to see her. It had been ages since the three of us had been together, as friends, without a glass wall and a heart rate monitor involved.

Ashley began to strike up a conversation with Terri, and Hazel started talking about how Jimmy had been doing since the shooting. All I could think about was whether or not Heather would come. Did she completely hate me, or was she willing to give me a second chance.

Heather spent hours at home, packing the right clothes, and putting on the right makeup for Paige's party. Perhaps it was just a lame girl's night, but it was much more than that to Heather. For her, it was her mother's first indication that she hadn't completely failed, and her first opportunity to be liked by the people she pretended not to care about.

Finally, the doorbell rang, and Heather almost considered bolting in the other direction. Of course, I didn't find out just how nervous she was to be there until much later. She put on a fairly calm suit when she entered. "Hi," she said casually.

"Hey, Heather," Ashley said, trying to be polite.

Terri seemed confused, and Hazel whispered something in her ear. Terri then nodded, and relaxed a bit.

"Do you guys want to go up to my room?" I asked.

"Paige has a whole bunch of new music videos on her computer," Hazel said, as if that would incite Heather.

"What kind of music do you like?" Ashley asked Heather, as we mounted.

"I dunno," Heather said. "A lot of stuff I guess. Some of my friends are in to that Japanese stuff, but I'm more of a Europop and Russian music person. But then I sometimes listen to metal and a bit of emo. Don't you play piano?"

Ashley nodded, as we entered my room. "Yeah. My ex-boyfriend plays guitar. He just bought this really expensive one that I swear is going to blow up his basement one day."

Heather laughed. "I play electric sometimes. I tried acoustic, but it just doesn't really go with my mood."

The conversation continued, and the two girls started talking about discreet bands I had never heard of. I tried to hide the fact that I was becoming jealous.

"Ashlee Simpson," Hazel commented. "Click on that one."

As _Pieces of Me_ started to play, Heather didn't seem impressed. "I see where she's trying to dance, but it looks like she's having a seizure," she whispered to Ashley. "Next time I fall in love, I'm going to go up to the guy and say, _I love you this much_." She demonstrated a spazzing action to go with it. Ashley laughed.

"Well, what do _you _guys like?" Terri asked.

"Have you ever seen a Tool video?" Heather asked Ashley. "I love how everything in it is so surreal. It could be anything."

Ashley nodded. "Sorry," she said to the few of us who were watching the videos Hazel suggested.

"Oh, it's fine," I said. "How about we take turns," I suggested. "That way everyone's stuff gets played."

"That's a good idea," Terri said.

"How about you go next," I suggested to Heather. There was no way I was going to let Ashley have her. _Wait_. There was no way Ashley would want her…

**_And no way Heather would want me_.**

Be that as it may, I still didn't mind watching her, as she searched through a list of emo, heavy metal, and foreign music to find a good video to show us. She turned on a random Tool video, and I saw exactly what she meant about their nightmarish qualities. Hazel became a bit nervous.

"It's almost what the world looks like when you're high," Ashley remarked.

"And…how would you know that?" Heather asked.

Ashley sighed. "Grade eight wasn't my best year," she said simply.

Terri and I nodded, remembering why girl's night hadn't happened in a while. When it was Ashley's turn to pick a video, she picked _Everybody's Fool_ by Evanescence. But somehow, watching a girl go through life being loved for her looks, fostering a false smile and blonde hair, only to come home and push her fist through a mirror didn't make me feel very confident. For a moment, I felt like the song was made for me.


	3. Girl's Night, Part 2

A/N: This story takes place pretty up to date, but without Maige, simply because I didn't know about the pairing when I started the story.

By the second hour, it was obvious that the sleepover was falling apart. It was like a bad recipe, thrown off by one ingredient. And everyone, whether they would admit it or not, knew the ingredient was Heather.

Ashley was sprawled out on my bed, flipping through _Rolling Stones _magazine, with Heather, who was commenting on the _Children of Celebrities _article.

"It would be awesome to be Kelly Osbourne," Heather commented, running her unpolished fingers through the disheveled brown hair I had made so much fun of in the past.

"_Why_?" Hazel asked, recoiling in disgust as she continued to search for a new Christina Agulara video.

"I don't know," Heather said thoughtfully, sitting cross-legged on my bed, and thumbing through the magazine. "I mean…yeah, her dad's crazy and all, but I would kill for that kind of freedom."

"Why?" Ashley asked; her eyes glued to a picture of John Lennon's offspring. "Are your parents really strict or something?"

She nodded. "You could say that. I'm not allowed to date until I'm out of college. But I kind of wonder what kind of control they'll have at _that _point."

For Hazel, the idea was unthinkable. "You're not allowed to _date_? I'm not either, but I do it anyway."

Heather shook her head. "There's more to it than that," she said plainly. She turned to Ashley, to continue her refined musical conversation. "I love _Imagine_, by John Lennon," she said, turning the page. "Nobody writes music like that anymore. I mean, it's all about who loves who, but it never makes a point."

Terri shrugged. "I don't know. Just because it's about love doesn't mean it's pointless."

"Yeah," Heather nodded. "I know. But it's not about real love. It's just the dramatic stuff you find in high school."

Hazel rolled her eyes. "Says the girl who's never had a _boyfriend_. I know what me and Jimmy have is love."

"Jimmy and I," Ashley corrected.

"I'm going to go make some popcorn," I announced suddenly. I stepped out of the room, and took a quick stop before I made my way to the kitchen. I stepped into my bathroom and took several deep breaths.

_It's alright, Paige_, I thought. _Get a hold of yourself_.

**_She likes Ashley more than she likes you._**

"It doesn't matter," Paige whispered out loud. "I'm straight."

Satisfied with her exhaling routine, Paige slid out of her bathroom, toward the kitchen. When she returned, with bowls and napkins to go along with the scalding, buttery bag she held with two fingers, she found that her friends were playing her least favorite game.

"Let's start over, since Paige came back," Heather suggested.

Paige sat down, Indian style on her floor, and held out her fingers. "You don't have to show which ones you get out on," Ashley announced. "You can put your hands behind your back."

No one seemed to feel the need, so Hazel began. "I have never worn a band t-shirt," she stated.

I sighed in irritation as I slipped a handful of popcorn into my mouth. I had a feeling that she was trying to get Heather out, but I didn't say anything.

"I have never had sex," Terri continued.

I sighed deeply, unsure of what to do. I knew Terri didn't know about Dean, so I didn't get upset. Instead, I kept my fingers up as if nothing had happened.

Surprisingly, I noticed that Ashley had struck out. "Craig?" I guessed.

Ashley nodded, and bowed her head lightly. "Before he was institutionalized."

I nodded. "I have never referred to someone as _'Hon_,'" Ashley said.

I knew that one was directed at me. "I have never kissed Jimmy," I said, against Ashley and Hazel.

The game went well for a few rounds, until Hazel came up with one that made my stomach turn.

"I have never gotten a crush on a girl," Hazel said.

Ashley seemed disgusted. "Homophobic, much?"

"I didn't say it was bad, I just said I've never done it," Hazel responded, seeming slightly put off by Ashley's tone.

"But if you had, would you want everyone at the party to know about it?" Ashley asked.

I wondered if I was the only person to notice Heather put her hands behind her back.


	4. Questions

A/N: Sorry I haven't updated this in a while. I've had a lot going on this summer.

The next Monday, I did everything I could to reassure my that the day would go by without disaster. My plan had been to give Heather a _chance_, probably more to redeem my conscience than her self-esteem. But the idea that Heather was tolerated, let alone _liked _by at least one of my friends was a very tiny chip in the armor I worked so hard to rebuild after what happened about a year ago.

I was examining myself in my full-length mirror, and was in the process of deciding between two shirts, when my mind began to drift away from me. _What Ashley wasn't the only one who started liking Heather? What if boys did too? What if everyone realized that Heather was as normal as they were, that half of what I had said about her wasn't even true? What if they knew my real reason for exiling her?_

I shook my head, and settled on a pale blue pheasant blouse, which matched the necklace that was neatly set out on my dresser, with the rest of my makeup. I had always known that, the worse I felt on the inside, the more important it was to look perfect on the outside.

Hazel greeted me as usual, in front of the steps to Degrassi. "What's wrong?" Hazel asked. "You look like you're ready to puke."

I made an obvious eye-role, hoping my friend would take the hint that today was not a good day for me. "I'm _fine_," I snapped. Hazel winced lightly, wondering what she had done to deserve the tone. Feeling guilty, I quickly smiled, and added, "Why wouldn't I be?"

"Ashley's over there, if you're wondering," Hazel commented, pointing toward Ellie, Marco, and Alex's usual hangout place.

Today, Ashley and Heather had joined the group, which seemed to be expanding by the day. Pretty soon, Heather was going to have more friends than _I _did. Everyone would love her, leaving me all the more vulnerable. "That is _so _weird," I sighed.

"I know," Hazel agreed. "To think that breaking up with Jay would get Alex a whole new set of friends."

I shook my head. "No. Heather."

Hazel shrugged. "She's really not that bad. I mean, yeah she's got a bit of a different style, but she kind of grows on you."

"Great," I groaned, opening her purse, pretending to be looking for something. "You too."

"Hey," Hazel said defensively. "_You _were the one who told _us _to give her a chance. What do you have against her _now_?"

I knew that no answer I could come up with would satisfy Hazel.

"Yeah," I sighed. "I guess you're right. We'd better get to class."

"When you work with html, there is something specific you need to look for to determine how the codes should be grouped," Mr. Simpson lectured.

I noticed an e-mail had appeared in my box.

Hey, Paige

I just wanted to thank you for inviting me to your slumber party. I think I was wrong about you too. You're actually not too bad.

Heather

I blushed lightly, and gave her a friendly reply, despite the sick feeling that was developing in my stomach.

Thanks. We should totally hang out sometime.

Paige

_I should call her_, I thought, as the bell rang, letting us out of class. _Maybe she likes The Dot. No…she'd be more likely to go someplace underground or alternative. God…I don't even know the difference. _

For the first time in months, I noticed Ellie opening the locker next to mine. "Hey, Ellie," I said cheerfully.

"May I _help _you?" Ellie asked dryly.

I shrugged. On a normal day, I would have found Ellie's love for rebelling against conformity, and basically everything I stood for, incredibly irritating. But I couldn't afford to get mad at Ellie over stylistic difference, if I wanted her to help me. "Actually, I was just wondering if you could clue me in on what kind of bands are playing around here. You know…your kind of scene."

Wrong question. "_My _scene?" Ellie asked. "And what exactly is _my _scene? Even if I could come up with some kind of answer, why the sudden interest?"

I shrugged again, trying to appear casual in what was probably going to be viewed as social suicide. "Well…you know. I mean, aside from me being on Spirit Squad and you being more artsy…we're really not that different."

Ellie took a moment to recover from her shock. "Did I really just hear you say that? This doesn't have anything to do with Ashley stealing your new friend, does it?"

I was taken aback. "_What_? Heather's not my friend, hon. I just invited her over to make up for the way I've treated her," I said lamely.

"If this is some stupid plan to humiliate her…"

"Is it even possible that maybe I just want to change a bit?" I asked.

"That's what my mom asked me before the last time she went a full six hours without drinking," Ellie sighed. "And I'm no more fooled this time than I was then."

Ellie shut her locker and began to walk away. "Ellie, wait," I pleaded.

"Are you going to tell me what's really going on?" Ellie demanded, finally stopping.

"Hon, I already told you," I said, trying to keep my tone mild. "I just think that since Ash and I have been best friends since second grade, it would be good for me to give some of her friends a chance."

"Ashley's had different friends since grade nine," Ellie pointed out. "Why weren't you interested then?"

Heather Sinclair walked by, briefly waving to Ellie. "Why don't you tell me exactly what you're saying here?" I asked.

Ellie shook her head. "I'm not accusing you of anything, Paige. I just think it's odd that you're suddenly willing to step outside your world, just to keep your friendship with Ash. If it were that important to you, you wouldn't have encouraged her to take ecstasy, thus doing your part to kick her out of your group."

For a second, I was completely in shock. "I didn't _know _she had e. I would _never _have let her do it if I had known."

But, deep down inside, I knew that Ellie was right. "Or is that just how you treat all your friends?" Ellie asked. "Because it looks to me that it's a bit late to make amends with Heather, if that's what you're trying to do. She would have done _anything _for you to accept her and all you did was find new ways to make fun of her."

Feeling defeated, I resorted the only comeback I could think of. Glancing at the removable sleeves Ellie often used to hide her cutting scratches, I added, "You know, why don't you fix your own problems before you worry about mine."

Ellie didn't strike back. Her tone remained relatively calm, as she said, "That was bitchy, even for you. You come to _me _of all people for advice, and now you're telling me that I'm too fucked up to give it. I'm sorry, Paige, but from the looks of it, you haven't changed at all."

I took a moment before nodding, and heading toward the girl's bathroom. How had I said something so tactless to Ellie? Had I _ever _treated _anyone _right? I felt a sinking feeling in my stomach as I thought about how hard Heather really _had _tried to make me like her. The problem was, all the while, I had been trying to make myself hate her. Now, in my last year of high school, I was going _completely _out of my way to try to make sense of whatever feelings I might have had for her. It was enough to make me wonder why Ellie was the one who felt like she deserved to be hurt, rather than me.


End file.
